


What Remains

by spacehopper



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, M/M, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 02:56:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13672815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacehopper/pseuds/spacehopper
Summary: They have a mission, and Ignis plans to complete it. No matter what the cost.





	What Remains

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lagerstatte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lagerstatte/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [What Remains](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14004636) by [Yuusana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuusana/pseuds/Yuusana)



The air cut his lungs, whipping through the holes newly torn into the walls of the dilapidated Magitek research facility. Gritting his teeth, Ignis pushed forward, trudging through the knee deep snow and wiping the sweat from his brow. He had to get back to Prompto. They’d been separated when the lab collapsed under the weight of the snow, the facility’s automated roof sweeping systems having long fallen into disrepair. 

And worse, the last thing he remembered was Prompto explaining that he’d found something. The records had been garbled, but he’d said they’d mentioned a disease, and a cure. That maybe after all this searching, the countless facilities they’d gone through, they might have finally found something that could deal with the Starscourge. As the roof had fallen, Ignis had reached out, hoping to save something. But it was all crushed now, like the small vial he’d retrieved, hope buried under the rubble. Unless he could find Prompto, and find a way to the other labs. 

He stumbled, reaching out automatically to catch his fall. He made contact with jagged metal, hissed as it cut through his glove and into his hand. He freed his hands, tracing a finger over his palm. The cut felt shallow, most of the damage mitigated by the thick leather of the glove’s outer layer. He’d leave it for now. The glove he let fall to the ground. It was little use to him now, and he’d long since stopped feeling the cold, the heat of his exertions was making him uncomfortably warm, despite the inclement weather. After a moment’s hesitation, he let the other glove fall. He’d have more luck with his hands free, to check the walls for keypads or other interfaces. 

Taking a careful step to the side, he reached for the wall, brushing it with his fingers. Just smooth, cold metal, but it was a start. He briefly rested his face against it, listening for anything that could be Prompto trying to contact him, and relishing the way the chilled steel relieved the fevered warmth of his skin. A rumble echoed through the hallway, followed by an ominous hiss. With this facility in this poor state, it was likely he would need to rely on touch, not sound, for guidance. The snow muffled his steps, and the storm raging outside, now louder after the collapse, was confusing what orientation he’d established when they’d entered the facility. 

Another step forward, and another. His boots slid through the top layer, leaving deep gouges. It was harder to walk this way, but also more likely his tracks wouldn’t be covered by the snow and wind before Prompto found them. Should Promto manage to find his way back here, Ignis wanted to make sure he knew where he’d gone. 

Finally the wall dipped into a corner. He traced the seam, turning to the expanse in front of him, feeling out the edges. A door. Now, how to open it. Hopefully it was unsecured, activated with a simple button. All he needed to do was find it the trigger, get through. And then, perhaps, he could sit and rest. For a moment. 

A low beep sounded, and Ignis’s heart dropped. Not a button, or even a keypad. No, it was a reader for the barcode all the MTs had. The reason he’d asked Prompto to join him on this foolhardy mission in the first place. 

He considered his options. He could try and head out into the storm through one of the holes. But without a way back into the facility, he would be well and truly doomed, full exposed to the elements and with little chance of being found. He could also attempt to climb the rubble behind him. But were that possible, he imagined Prompto would already have done so. 

The possibility that he was alone, that Prompto had perished in the collapse, was not even worth considering. Prompto was quick on his feet, and familiar with these facilities. He was likely looking for Ignis now, and would find him soon.

With that settled, he finally gave into the exhaustion that had been plaguing him, slumping against the wall and letting the curve of the hall protect him against the elements. His best option, truly his only option, was to await rescue. 

Prompto had never let him down before. 

*

“Ignis!”

He licked his lips, the flakes of snow doing nothing to ease his parched throat. His head felt leaden, and as much as he struggled, he couldn’t open his eyes. He needed to open his eyes, to see Noct, to protect him. Had to open his eyes.

“Iggy!”

Trying to swallow, he instead let out a hacking cough that burned his throat. Not Noct. No. Prompto. He opened his eyes, and saw night.

Hands on his shoulders, shaking him. Trembling fingers brushing snow out of his hair. He’d removed his hat, too hot to keep it on. Foolish. But it had seemed the right thing at the time. 

He tried to tell Prompto he was fine, but only a croak emerged from his throat. A bottle pressed against his lips, and he drank, swallowing down the water in greedy gulps. 

“Are you okay?” Prompto said, when he’d had his fill. Bare fingers brushed against his cheek. Why had Prompto removed his gloves? He pulled the bottle away, but didn’t take his hand from Ignis shoulder. His fingers were so cold. Ignis leaned into the touch.

“Shit,” Prompto said. Hand now pressed against his brow, still blessedly cool. Which was wrong, so wrong. He shouldn’t be this warm, not sitting in the snow this long. “You are really hot.” His hand moved away, and Ignis couldn’t suppress the small whimper at the loss. “Not that kind of hot.” Prompto’s arm looped around his waist, dragging him to his feet. “I mean yeah, totally, you are that kind of hot. But not the time, I meant feverish. Really bad. What the hell happened?” 

Feverish. Yes, that was it. The vial that he’d grabbed, that had shattered in his hand. 

“I’m fine,” he said, struggling to support himself, to pull away. “Can we still get to the main lab?” They needed to get what they came for, even the chance of a cure for the Starscourge worth whatever was happening to Ignis. 

“Yeah, Iggy, but we need to do something about this, you do not look good.” 

He took a steadying breath. No point in arguing. It wouldn’t matter anyway.

“We need to head to the main lab regardless. Any answers will be there.”

*

“What happened to your gloves?” Prompto wrapped his hands around Ignis’s, pulling him into a recess in the side of the structure. Ignis was too exhausted to protest. 

“They tore. I left them.” Another foolish mistake. Even torn, they would’ve still provided some warmth. Why had he done that? In the world they lived in now, mistakes like that could be deadly. Might be deadly still.

“Want to borrow mine?” From the way Prompto moved against him, it seemed he was already tugging them off. He reached out, fumbling until he found Prompto’s wrist.

“No, keep them. One of us should remain in good shape, and it’s more important you retain use of your hands.” It would be up to Prompto to access any records, to go through files and read off the information so that Ignis could decipher it. And he was the only one capable of accessing these facilities. They couldn’t risk harm coming to him. Ignis was the expendable one. “We should get going.”

“Iggy—” 

Ignis pushed out back into the storm, knowing Prompto would either be forced to follow, or to abandon Ignis to his fate. And Prompto, kind, caring, devoted Prompto, would never do that. He hated to use that against him, but many things were necessary to survive, now. And they’d need every advantage they could get, whatever the cost, to make sure the world was still here when Noct returned. 

A tug a his sleeve, indicating he was going the wrong way. As expected. With the deep snow, the howling wind, he had no way to tell direction. There was nothing in this empty expanse except the facility itself, and the weather masked all indication of its presence. He stumbled after Prompto, letting him tuck an arm around his waist again. He was flagging. And he needed to remain conscious. Just long enough to find what they came for. 

“I think this is it. Stay here.” 

It wasn’t like Ignis had any other choice.

*

_Test results indicate that while a cure is not viable at this point, in some subjects, progression of the Starscourage has been successfully halted…_

The recording faded out, damaged by the same collapse that had separated them earlier. Prompto cursed, banging on the console, and the sound returned.

_…while the duration is not ideal, it shows promise. Continued experiments in the North Labs are necessary to find a more long term control._

“That’s it, then.” Ignis rested a hand on the table next to him. He ignored the way it trembled. It didn’t matter. “We head for the North Labs.”

“Wait, there’s something else here.” A few beeps. Prompto must be pulling up another recording.

_The research into a disease that will only weaken the Lucian population has been halted for the time being. While I and certain others have proved immune to virus, too much of the Niflheim population has been tainted with Lucian blood. At this point, the potential loss to the empire has been deemed too extreme for further research, particularly with the difficulty in manufacturing the antiviral drug needed. For now, what remains of the virus, as well as the drug, will be stored in the South Labs._

South. They’d come from the south. 

“Iggy,” Prompto said, voice barely above a whisper. “We—”

“I know.” And it would explain why Prompto was fine, despite being exposed as well. He would share Besithia’s immunity. “I’ll be fine. Illness isn’t death.”

And it wasn’t. No matter how virulent a plague they’d manufactured, there would certainly have been survivors. There was nothing to say Ignis wouldn’t be one of them.

“We need to go back. We’ll get the cure, then we’ll head to the North Labs.”

“We don’t have time.” A rumble echoed through the walls again, as if emphasizing Ignis’s point. “This is our only chance.”

“We don’t even know if this Starscourge cure will work! They said it was halted, that the duration—”

“Wasn’t ideal,” Ignis finished. “But that could easily mean years. The research here was all long term.” 

As Prompto proved with his very existence.

“I’m not letting you die just for some stupid chance,” Prompto said, a hint of steel in his voice. The years in darkness had hardened them all. In many ways, Prompto was still the man he had been, his humor and good nature a light in the darkness. But five years of this would change anyone. He wouldn’t simply do what Ignis wanted. Not without reason.

“When Noct returns, we need to make sure there are still people for him to save.” Prompto knew what the Starscourge cost them. And he cared. “I’m only one person, and unlike the Starscourge, we don’t know if this virus is fatal.”

“And we don’t know it isn’t!” Prompto’s voice cracked. “Damn it, Iggy. Do you think this is what Noct would want?”

Noct would do what was necessary. 

He pushed hands against the table, levering himself up. His left hand slid, too slick with sweat, and he pitched forward, almost falling to the floor, saved only by the arms now wrapped around his chest.

“We’re going south,” Prompto said. Ignis could feel his breath against his neck, his heartbeat against his back.

Once, Ignis might’ve protested further. The greater good, Noct, everything else mattered more than him. Any sacrifice was worth it.

But he no longer had the strength.

*

“Fuck.”

Prompto lowered him to the floor. Ignis wanted to ask where they were, why they were stopping, but his lips were numb, his eyes too weak to open. If he could only open them, he was sure he’d be able to see. 

“Don’t you dare die on me.” The sleeve of his shirt torn away. Prompto shouldn’t do that. Even something as small as a shirt was valuable in this world of ruin. Ignis’s fingers grasped weekly at his leg, trying to make him stop. A hand tightened around his biceps, breath ghosted across his lips. 

He started at the sharp jab in his arm, the wetness on his face that followed. Lips pressed against his, a beard scratching his chin. He couldn’t imagine Prompto with a beard.

“Don’t leave me.”

*

Engines whirring around him. Fingers running through his sweat soaked hair. Ignis opened his mouth, licking his lips. Coughed. Spoke.

“Where are we?” He was bone tired, barely able to lift his head. Not that lifting his head would matter. There was only darkness, even if he could see it. Prompto’s hand pressed him down, as if he had the power to resist. 

“How do you feel?” Prompto sounded like he’d been crying. Ignis struggled for memory. They’d been at the Magitke facility. There’d been an accident. And—

“Our mission?” he asked.

Prompto laughed. He sounded bitter. Prompto, of all people, should never sound like that. 

“You almost died.” His hand clenched in Ignis’s hair. “And that’s what your thinking about?” 

“Noct needs—”

“Noct needs you alive! There are other facilities, other places we can check. We can even go back, with more people, a bigger team. But we can’t do anything if you’re dead.”

He intertwined his fingers with Ignis’s, pressed a kiss to his brow. Then he stiffened.

“Sorry. I just—we need you. I need you.” His voice cracked. Ignis reached up a trembling hand, found his cheek and the wetness there.

“Prompto,” he said. There was more he should say, but he couldn’t find the words.

“That was over the line. I shouldn’t have kissed you, not like this. I just couldn’t, you were dying, Iggy, and I couldn’t—”

Ignis tugged his head down, guiding their mouths together. The kiss was terrible, Prompto still crying, Ignis too weak to do much more than brush their lips together. Someone cleared their throat, and Ignis knew they weren’t alone. Probably with Aranea’s troops, the pickup they’d arranged beforehand. But it didn’t matter.

This was what remained.


End file.
